11. Charlotte
Chapter eleven
Charlotte
I try to focus on the twinkling fairy lights strung across the rafters of the rustic reception hall. Or the rich pine scent of the mountain lodge mixing with the aroma of the beautiful bouquets from White Glove that dot the tables. Anything other than the tall, broad-shouldered figure leaned against the bar across the room. But my gaze keeps betraying me, skipping to Jake in a perfectly tailored slate-gray suit, sipping amber whiskey as he tracks my every move.
The ceremony was perfect. The setting picturesque. Libby was radiant, and Brock more emotional than I’ve seen him in years. I managed to avoid direct contact with Jake by sticking close to Maya and Zoe, but now that the DJ’s voice echoes through the hall, announcing the first dance, my stomach clenches.
“Let’s have the wedding party join our newlyweds on the dance floor!”
Maya’s hand squeezes mine.
“I’ve been looking forward to this for a long time,” she says, as Mack beelines toward us, his intense gaze pinned on her.
Zoe glides toward Levi with a smile, leaving me alone at the edge of the dance floor. I spin to look for my mom, or Robert, or anyone with whom I can strike up a conversation and hope my absence won’t be noticed.
“Looks like we’re the only ones left,” Jake’s deep voice rumbles behind me, sending an electric current racing down my spine.
When I turn to face him, the sight of his extended hand makes my mouth go dry. “We don’t have to—”
“We’re in the wedding party,” he says, a muscle in his chin twitching beneath the golden glow of the chandeliers. “Don’t make me drag you out there.”
I place a hand on my hip. “I’d like to see you try.”
His eyebrow hitches before a slow smile spreads across his face. The same one that stared back at me for weeks from the charity calendar Amber taped to the coffeeshop bulletin board, tormenting me until I took it down. “Is that a challenge?”
Rather than press the issue, I surrender and place my hand in his. Surely, one dance won’t hurt. I’ll play the part of a happy bridesmaid then be done with it. But when his warm, calloused fingers close around mine, a jolt of awareness travels up my arm, and the memory of those hands on my body in the shower last night sends heat rushing to my cheeks.
The song is a blur as Jake leads me to the middle of the dance floor, where the other couples are already moving to the music. His palm settles at the small of my back, drawing me close enough that his heat seeps through the delicate fabric of my bridesmaid dress. My hands rest on his shoulders, and I’m careful to keep an appropriate few inches of space between us.
“You look beautiful tonight.” His gaze drops to where the dusty rose satin drapes across my collarbone.
I swallow hard, fixing my eyes on his silver tie. “You clean up pretty well yourself.”
He chuckles, the sound vibrating through his chest. “A genuine compliment? The world must be ending.”
Despite myself, I smile. “Don’t get used to it. The truce ends tomorrow.”
It has to. I can’t handle the way this version of us makes me feel.
His hand tightens almost imperceptibly at my waist. “About that…”
Before he can continue, I feel the weight of attention on us. I glance around to find Mack and Maya swaying nearby, so intent on each other a hurricane wouldn’t distract them. Same with Levi and Zoe. The newlyweds are lost in their own world on the other side of the floor, but my mom stands with Robert by the cake table, her knowing gaze fixed on Jake and me.
“We have an audience,” I whisper.
“We’ve had an audience for two years,” Jake replies, his voice low. “And now, we’ve actually given them something to talk about.” He pulls me flush against him, eliminating the careful distance I’ve maintained. My body betrays me instantly, melting against the solid wall of his chest as though I was made from a mold of it. His heartbeat thunders under my palm, matching the frantic pace of my own.
“Jake—”
“Come outside with me,” he says, his breath warm against my ear. “Please. We need to talk.”
The desperate hitch in his voice makes me pull back to study his face. All traces of his easy smile are gone, replaced by an intensity that sends my stomach flipflopping. I nod, not trusting myself to speak, and let him guide me off the dance floor before the song has ended.
“Wait,” I say, catching sight of the wedding planner standing near the DJ. “Don’t you have to give your speech? They’ll be doing the toasts soon.”
“I don’t care.” Jake’s fingers tighten around mine. “I’ve spent two years waiting for the right moment with you.” His eyes lock onto mine with fierce determination. “Please. I can’t wait another minute.”
The raw urgency in his voice silences any further protest. It’s past time to explain. To confess what I only just realized this weekend.
The evening breeze is cool as we slip through the wide-open wall of sliding doors that lead to the stone terrace. White orbs sway gently in the branches of century-old trees, casting their soft light on the garden below. It’s the kind of dreamy scene made for couples to share first kisses, not last words.
Jake’s hand remains steady on the small of my back as he leads me down the flagstone path that winds through manicured shrubs to a secluded spot I haven’t noticed before, where two wooden swings hang from the sturdy branches of an ancient maple tree.
I sink onto the smooth wooden seat of a swing, grateful for the space between us. He takes a seat on the swing at my side, the rope protesting his weight. I push off gently with my toes.
“Charlotte,” Jake begins, his voice cutting through the hum of music spilling from the reception above. “I need to know what really happened on New Year’s Eve.”
Cutting right to the heart of the matter, I see. My swing slows as tension coils in my stomach. “Jake—”
“Please,” he begs, turning to face me. The soft light catches in his golden curls, creating a halo effect that seems almost unfair. “You pushed me away that night. Kicked me out of your room last night. Ran from the terrace the night before. You’ve been keeping me at arm’s length for two years now. There’s a reason, and I think I deserve to know why.”
He’s right. Of course, he’s right. I owe him at least that much. I take a deep breath, focusing on the distant silhouettes of mountains against the inky sky.
“Something happened before that night,” I admit, my voice barely audible. “The summer before we met, I was walking home from an audition late one night. I cut through a side street in the theater district I thought was a shortcut. A man followed me, cornered me between buildings.”
Jake goes completely still beside me, his knuckles white where they grip the rope.
“He had a hold of me, and I was so scared. I offered my wallet, my phone, anything, but he didn’t want them. He wanted me. I fought back, and fortunately, a police car with its siren blaring sped down Seventh Avenue, distracting him just enough that I could wrench free. I got away. But…” My throat tightens, and I swallow hard. “I felt powerless. Weak. I… I hated it.”
I push harder with my toes, swallowing the memories from that night while Jake waits patiently, as if he knows there’s more to my story. “I never told anyone. Not my friends, not my mom, and certainly not Brock. He would have gone ballistic. Instead, I enrolled in self-defense classes. I promised myself I’d never be caught off guard like that again. That I’d never need rescuing.”
Understanding dawns in Jake’s eyes, followed quickly by something darker, more intense. “And then on New Year’s Eve, when those guys—”
“You swooped in before I had a chance to handle it myself,” I finish. “It felt like all those months of training meant nothing. Like I was still that frightened girl in the alley.”
Jake stands abruptly, pacing in front of the swings, his hands raking through his hair. “Damn it, Charlotte! Why didn’t you tell me? I would have—”
“What? Let me handle it?” I challenge, rising to meet him. “That’s not who you are, Jake. You’re a protector. I knew it from the moment I met you. It’s in your DNA.”
“I would have understood!” His voice rises, echoing in the quiet garden. “I would have backed your play instead of making you feel like I didn’t think you were capable.”
The raw emotion in his voice stuns me. This isn’t the easygoing, flirtatious Jake I’m used to sparring with. This is something else entirely. A man whose fury stems not from wounded pride but from agony on my behalf.
“You should have told me,” he continues, softly, stepping closer, his eyes blazing in the dim light. “If I’d known what you’d been through, what you—”
“I didn’t want you to know,” I whisper. “I didn’t want anyone to know. Especially not the guy whose job is literally saving people. We’d just met, for goodness sake. I thought I could push you away, and that would be the end of it. I didn’t know—”
Jake’s hands come up to frame my face, his touch so gentle it makes my heart ache. “Charlotte Harris, when are you going to understand that needing help doesn’t make you weak? It makes you human.”
The tears I’ve been fighting spill over, tracing hot paths down my cheeks.
“Jake!” Levi’s voice from above shatters the moment. “There you are. We’ve been looking everywhere. It’s time for your speech!”
Jake’s forehead drops to rest against mine for just a second, his frustrated exhale warm against my lips. “I have to—”
“Go,” I whisper, stepping back. “Your best man duties await.”
He catches my hand before I can retreat further. “This conversation isn’t over.”
“I know.” And for the first time in two years, I don’t want it to be.